Frater, Amicus
by Alatariel Palantir
Summary: A collection of exactly 100-word drabbles focused entirely on the delicately intricate bond between our favorite and the only Pevensie brothers.
1. Chapter 1: Beginnings

**DISCLAIMER: **_**(for now and for all other consecutive chapters)**_** I do not own C.S. Lewis' work…I simply like to play around with it. **

Summary: A collection of 100-word (exactly!) drabbles focused entirely on the delicately intricate bond between our favorite (and the only) Pevensie brothers.

**Frater , Amicus**

**Chapter One: Beginnings**

Edmund lent against the pillar, his eyes searching, never finding. Thoughts an eleven-year-old boy should never be thinking kept his mind in continuous turmoil, rendering him sleepless.

Peter ducked into his brother's rooms, rubbing his eyes sleepily. The chilly air struck him, alerting him to the open door and Edmund's still form. Silently, he fell behind his brother, mindful of keeping out of sight.

For however long the brothers stood there, they didn't know. Then, the sun rose, bathing Narnia in a golden glow.

Peter spoke. "It's a new beginning, Edmund."

Edmund never knew five words could mean so much.


	2. Chapter 2: Hours

**Frater, Amicus**

**Chapter Two: Hours**

Peter entered the tent, looking remorseful.

"And just where have you been?"

"Gee, Ed, sorry. I lost track of time, I suppose."

Edmund was livid. "_'Lost track of time?' _Losing track of time is when you read for longer than you anticipated. Staying out for _four bloody hours_ after dark – bloody unaccompanied, I must add - when there are bloody werewolves on the loose is completely suicidal! When are you going to use that bloody head of yours?"

Peter offered up a timid grin. "I never knew a Mum who had such vulgar language."

Edmund threw a pillow at him.


	3. Chapter 3: Red

**Frater, Amicus**

**Chapter Three: Red**

When Peter thought of blood, he thought of Edmund. Blood reminded him of his brother, his beloved brother, lying on a barren field, clasping a broken wand, vital fluids spilling out of an undoubtedly fatal wound, staining the charred grass a deep crimson.

When Peter thought of sacrifice, he thought of Edmund. Sacrifice reminded him of his brother, his beloved brother, fighting, either by sword or by tongue, either in battle or in court, giving all, at whatever the cost.

Red defined both blood and sacrifice, triggered the worst and the best memories Peter held against his brother. Irony speaks.


	4. Chapter 4: Purple

**Frater, Amicus**

**Chapter Four: Purple**

The change seemed small, but obvious, even if only to Edmund.

Edmund walked across the station platform and put a hand on his brother's arm. "Are you alright?"

A pause. A straightening of slumped shoulders. A cleared throat. A plastered, forced, fake smile. "Of course, Ed. How could I not be?"

But Peter's eyes betrayed him. A storm of innumerable emotions: hurt, sorrow, loss…clouded his normally clear blue gaze.

Edmund grasped Peter and jerked him forcibly, emitting a surprised gasp from said brother.

"Must I remind you, dear brother? One does not have to wear purple to be a king."


	5. Chapter 5: Friends

**Frater, Amicus**

**Chapter Five: Friends**

It was the first time he'd been in Narnia. The Tisroc had sent him to determine if the rumors were true; that four _children_ had assumed control of the Narnian throne.

A horn was then blown, announcing his arrival.

Two boys walked towards him, their youth unfitting for the regal garments that adorned them. Their obvious closeness and endearment of one another startled him, for affection was rare in Calormen.

His page noticed his perplexed look and inquired, "Ambassador?"

"They are good friends, are they not?"

The faun paused for a moment. "Yes and no, sire."

"Pardon?"

"They are brothers."


	6. Chapter 6: Teammates

**Frater, Amicus**

**Chapter Six: Teammates**

Peter sidestepped an oncoming attacker, pivoting on his foot and tossing the rugby ball behind him to Edmund, a back in the game.

Peter sidestepped an oncoming attacker, pivoting on his foot and tossing the fallen sword behind him to Edmund, his back in the battle.

Whether they were in this world or the next, whether they participated in a cause of sport or war, whether they be conquerors of game or of life, Peter and Edmund were teammates, forever being the other's best offense and defense, forever being the two first in the charge and last in the retreat.


	7. Chapter 7: Sunrise

**Frater, Amicus**

**Chapter Seven: Sunrise**

Edmund paced.

If he were not pacing, he would be hovering over Peter's bunk, glancing worriedly at his elder, ever paling brother, panic threatening to consume him.

And Edmund _refused _to hover.

It was getting increasingly harder, however, as Peter's condition continued to worsen. It seemed there was little chance of his surviving of the night.

"King Edmund." A healer approached him.

"What?" he snapped, a little more menacingly than he intended to.

"Look outside, my king."

Edmund did as told, sticking his head out of the field tent, the golden glow of the sunrise blinding him.

"There is hope."


	8. Chapter 8: Smell

**Frater, Amicus**

**Chapter Eight: Smell**

Despite the day or time of the year, despite how little the night's sleep was, it always started the same.

Every morning, the crowned brothers made their way to the practice arena. For however long, Peter and Edmund were led through demanding drills, complicated sequences, and harmonized spars.

It was tough. It was exhausting. It was frustrating.

Yet, they enjoyed it.

Despite who had performed better that day, despite how grueling the practice was, it always ended the same:

"Go take a bath. You smell horrible."

The jab was met with a smile and a cheeky response,

"Likewise, brother. Likewise."


	9. Chapter 9: Shapes

**Frater, Amicus**

**Chapter Nine: Shapes**

There Peter was, lying on his dormitory bed, studying.

And, then, Edmund entered, clearly aggravated.

"Peter, why do these boys act like war is a sport? Why do they act as if killing is just a game?"

"Because they are boys."

"But,I'm too a boy, and I clearly don't hold the same viewpoint as them."

"You've fought in real wars. You have watched men die, either by your sword or your enemy's. Your experiences have shaped you. You've been there. You know.

"When did you become so wise, brother?"

"I've always been. You've just to begun to take notice."


End file.
